Autumn Tales From The Lunch Tin

More "Tales from the Lunch Tin"!

It's that time again... The passing of Autumn is recorded in the antics of our feline family. Their adventures are seemingly neverending and are constantly entertaining to me and Hubby, whose lunch tin contains one of these updates every day. Here are some of the latest daily chapters...

 

 

    The children have new beds! In fact, they have a whole newly furnished annex to stay safe and warm in at night. Snuggly igloos, warm plushy cushions and even a little kitty duplex fill what was a barren utility space, transforming a stark spot into a comfy, toasty haven for the babies to enjoy, during rainy days or chilly nights. They've each chosen their favourites, apart from Leonard, who can't be trusted there at all. From the great beyond, the distant harp music and tinkling bells accompany a heavenly Harvey's Noel Coward tones - "Marvelous wubbies! Must have ALL the lovely wubby snugglies! Fabulous, dear boy, fabulous!" The Colonel approves. 

 

    Autumn chases rats with the falling leaves as they skitter into the garden to steal scraps from the chicken coop and the hutches. To Leonard, this is a positive Black Friday event - a veritable bargain hunt of rodenty goodness! He's focussed, determined and gleefully lethal... It's a massacre!

 

 

    The big sycamore in the garden has held on to its leaves like a spoiled child gripping a lollipop, but gravity and the season's weather finally ripped the curling leaves from the branches, sending them hurtling to the ground like a drunk on a dancefloor. It came as something of a surprise to Gizmo, not the quickest on his paws, and as a treat to Sapphira who lost all reason in her pursuit of airborne combatants. Sapphira went nuts. Gizmo composted. 

 

 

Gizmo has ways of clearing a room so that he can have the comfiest seat.

#bumsmells 

 

 

 

    Leonard takes one look at the weather and refuses to move, a furry stealth emo.
Everyone embraces their inner couch potato on occasion, but Leonard is the Messiah of all soft-furnishing-based root vegetables. He is the expert. He is the One - the Neo of slovenliness.... ninja skill invisibility...until he snores, farts and wakes to furtively consume his own body weight in nippity-biscuits.

 

    Gizmo is not a rain lover. While the miniature maniac and the idiot play in the puddles and the big, splooshy raindrops, Gizmo is very much aware that, basically. he just gets wet. He is prepared to tolerate this state of affairs only because he is ALSO aware that looking like a drowned rat will guarantee being wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel, cuddled, brushed and fed his favourite treats. He will sacrifice dignity for luxury at the drop of a hat.

    As Gizmo staggers unsteadily out of the kitty house with pasted fur, looking like a bomb blast survivor with alarmingly moist shell shock, it's clear that his sister's assault upon his person has had significant and devastating effects.
    While Gizmo recouperates, Sapphira, undeterred, employs her overactive saliva glands in her own ear-to-bumhole 'Andromeda Strain' style cleansing ritual until her big brother returns for more feline waterboarding.
    As a cat hairstylist, she makes up in enthusiasm what she lacks in restraint.

 

 

  Gizmo's entrepreneurialism knows no bounds.
Fed up with 'singing' for his supper - during what appears to be a distressing national sausage shortage - he has discovered a potential solution to his dilemma...
Whilst wandering around the fields and farms he happened upon a couple of lage wild sausage plants, which are well rooted and prospering in an undisclosed location. Gizmo will now impatiently await the harvest, although to his surprise these sausage plants are surprisingly active and may put up a bit of a fight making collecting sausages a lot tougher that he originally planned....

 

    Gizmo has finally discovered how to harness the mighty power of the sun itself - in the form of a hot water bottle with snuggly cover, pre-approved by his Heavenly brother-from-another-mother, Harvey.

 

    Mummy is working a piece for an exhibition. This time it's a textile work which means that copious amounts of embroidery thread dance seductively before the captivated eyes of Leonard Shrewsbane. Upon being given his own piece, Leonard embarks on an emotional thrill ride of blissful, overexcited insanity which results in a shredded footstool cover... along with an equally shredded foot.

 

    Sapphira is in her element now - finally - in her role of mercenary protector of the Shrewsbane's space. Tense as a piano wire garrote, she paces like a rabid wolverine on speed, awaiting directives from the slovenly teenager moping and wallowing in his pit of mysterious smells behind closed doors.
Approach at your peril!
....They will never find your body......

 

     Gizmo's continuing impatience at food time and his almost constant cravings have driven him to take up the questionable hobby of wizardry. Taking a somewhat classic approach - somewhere between Paul Daniels and Tommy Cooper - he works earnestly towards his ultimate goal - turning shrews into sausages...

 

    That's all for now from the crazy cats - more will be here as soon as Husband has more lunch hours! Thanks for stopping by - don't forget to leave a comment and say 'hello!' See you soon xxxx

 

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